Of violets and strength; My hero
by Silent Sensei
Summary: Miaka remebers and writes of a certain seishi who gave his all to the very last...


Outside, the crisp fall air blew dried leaves across the pavement, rustling and dancing with the joy of autumn. The beautiful array of colors strewn throughout the trees was so inviting that it took all of Yuki Miaka's willpower to stop herself from jumping out the window, right there in the middle of writing class. She sighed wistfully, a small gust air that ruffled the blank pages of her notebook. Blank pages that should have been filled with katakana marks describing what made a hero.  
  
This is a stupid assignment anyways, she thought tiredly. We've had to write about heroes since primary school! With the Jonan exams, you'd think we'd have more of a challenge! She paused in her ruminations as the teacher stared down her thick lenses at Miaka.  
  
"Is there a problem, Yuki-san?"  
  
She quenched another sigh. "No, Tejima-san."  
  
"Then start writing," was the brisk command. With a look of long suffering, Miaka picked up her pen and pressed it to the paper, in the pretense of working. Tejima-san sniffed and walked back to her desk at the front of the room.  
  
Arghh.Now I have to actually think about this moronic essay. Man, I'm hungry. Why won't the lunch bell ring? Miaka discreetly checked her watch.  
  
Che! 11:30! Half an hour until lunch! Miaka almost passed out on top of her notebook. Composing herself with the knowledge that if she didn't finish, she would have to eat in the classroom and miss seeing Taka, she racked her brain for an example of a hero.  
  
Hmm.who should I pick? Noble Hotohori? He was a hero; he saved my life and stayed loyal, even when he knew I loved Tamahome.Or brave Tasuki, who turned down the leadership and life of the Mt. Reikaku bandits to protect me? Miaka chewed the end of her pen, unable to decide. She looked once more out the window for inspiration, spotting a small violet that had somehow survived the early fall chill.  
  
Violets.Nuriko. Miaka took the pen out of her mouth, suddenly sad. She could remember that day in the Hokkan mountains perfectly clearly; the image was painted on the inside of her eyelids when she closed her eyes. The gentle, strong Sukazu shichiseishi with the mark of the willow upon his chest. The snow was red that day. A final, absolute red that still jarred her bones when she thought of it. Wetness formed behind her large jade eyes as she began to write.  
  
iWhat makes a hero? How does one recognize an individual for the true champion they are? A hero is someone who puts aside all his feelings for another; someone who risks their dignity, their reputation, or in some cases their life for another person's well-being./i  
  
A shudder ran through Miaka's body, striking terror into her heart. Tamahome felt it too, as did Mitsukake, Chichiri, Tasuki, Chiriko, and even Hotohori, far away on his throne in Konan. Her lover looked up in concern, his gaze on the mountaintop they had yet to reach.  
  
"It's Nuriko!" Miaka shouted, racing up the snowy slopes to reach the shinzaho cave.  
  
"Miaka!" Tamahome followed close behind the Suzaku no miko, anxious to find the violet-haired celestial warrior.  
  
iA hero is a person you love, a person you know will do anything to protect you, knowing that your love for them is strong enough to be felt in life or death. When bad things happen, a hero keeps a smile on his face so that you won't be sad, even when he is in the ultimate pain./i  
  
"Nuriko! Suzaku, Nuriko get up!" Miaka ran to the fallen man, sobbing over his broken body as the blood from the deep wounds in his chest stained her Hokkan robes. The other shichiseishi had caught up to them, each mourning in their own way. Chichiri sat a little ways off, sitting in grievous meditation, his mask on the frozen ground beside him. Chiriko stood by Mitsukake, his youthful energy dimmed by the sudden tragedy, though he refused to show it in the shadow of the tall healer. Mitsukake looked helpless, knowing that even the Great Healing Power could never bring Nuriko back. Tamahome held Miaka, keeping her away from the dying warrior. Tasuki let the tears flow down his face unashamedly, never too proud to cry for his friend. And yet, in the midst of all this sorrow, Nuriko's beautiful pale face was wreathed in a tight smile, his love for his miko and his fellow seishi shining through. Miaka couldn't fathom why he was so happy, and she wanted to beat him over and over until he felt the pain and came back to her.  
  
iHeroes accept death and tragedy as they would accept the weather outside. They realize their end is inevitable, yet they do nothing to prevent it from coming. Heroes quietly read their fate in the stars and follow the path marked out for them. As a famous American president once said, 'Courage is not the absence of fear.' Heroes are mortal too, and they have their own fears, but they face them and conquer them for the sake of those around them./i  
  
Nuriko knew he could never beat Ashitare, yet he stood up boldly and prepared himself for his final battle, feeling his enormous strength flow through him as the bracelets from Taitsukun formed into arm bands and gave him even more power. Ashitare threw back his shaggy head and howled, the sound reverberating off the mountains walls. The sound fueled his fear, but it also gave him the adrenaline to fight as the beast lunged for his throat. Nuriko struck out with his right fist, sending the seiryuu shichiseishi flying backwards. Ashitare pounced again, and fur mixed with deep purple hair as the two rolled over and over in the snow. Even as he felt the claws pierce through his chest, his thoughts were on Miaka. I love you Miaka, he thought to himself as the world blurred. An image of the genki miko filled his mind and gave him one last reserve of perseverance as he struck Ashitare. The fierce wolfman would have no one to grieve for him, but Nuriko knew his death would make his friends weep. Thinking of Hotohori, with no one to love him now that he was passing on, he began to smile in the hopes that the young emperor would find someone, a woman, who could give him the love that neither he nor Miaka could offer. Tasuki entered his thoughts next, and his mouth turned upwards at the memories and laughter they had shared. Chichiri would help keep the group together with his wisdom and quiet comfort, as would Mitsukake with his healing and silent strength. Chiriko would be hit hard, but it was best he face these things as a child now, rather than learn the hard truth when he was older. Tamahome would find consolation and love in Miaka, as would his miko find support in his blue-haired friend. All his love came out in a wide, painful smile as he saw them rush up the mountain. They would summon Suzaku, he knew it. He could feel it in his heart, even as his heart bled onto the snow. He had every bit of faith in them, and it gave him the strength to open his eyes and view the world one last time, his friends all around him and Hotohori safely in Konan. And as he closed his eyes, the cold fell away from him in a long shuddering sigh. Soon he would see his sister again, and everything would be all right.  
  
Tears were threatening to fall now, as Miaka paused in search of the words to fit how she felt.  
  
iHeroes walk among us everyday, though most of us pass by with blind eyes and deaf ears. Love gives them the strength to fight for their beliefs, and hope gives them the knowledge that things can always get better. They will continue to protect the ones that mean the most to them, no matter how high the price or how heavy the burden. A hero is someone who can shed light in the darkest places and give love to the hungriest hearts./i  
  
The bell for lunch rang, and Miaka stood up to place her paper on the teacher's desk. As she filed out of the classroom in the middle of her exuberant classmates, she wiped away the emotions that had come spilling onto her cheeks. A breeze floated in through an open hallway window, and with it the promise of another beautiful day. She stopped to gaze out at the sky, holding onto the memory of the courageous violet-haired warrior who gave his life so she could succeed. Managing a shaky smile, she brushed once more at her eyes and whispered to the indifferent autumn wind.  
  
Aishiteru Nuriko. Watashi no eiyo.  
  
  
  
(I love you Nuriko. My hero.)  
  
  
  
Well, how'd you like the fic? Please remember to review, because I worked hard on this, and it made me cry! Nuriko is one of my favorite charas in Fushigi Yugi, and this was my short tribute to him, so please tell me what you think of it! Arigatou! ^^ 


End file.
